


In Panic

by blackeyedqueen



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8585884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedqueen/pseuds/blackeyedqueen
Summary: Jason has a panic attack during a mission. Tim tries to help.





	

Jason’s hands were trembling as he meticulously worked to defuse the bomb.

It wasn’t the first bomb he’d defused and it wouldn’t be the last. He knew what he was doing, he _knew_ … But his hands were still shaking anyway, and the clock was counting down, and he could hear his heart beating in his ears, could feel it in his skull. He could feel his lungs burning and could see his vision graying out around the edges and this did not need to happen right now. What needed to happen right now was Jason pulling it together and just fucking defusing this bomb already.

He didn’t know exactly what set him off this time. He didn’t know if it was because he was in a warehouse that looked the same, smelled the same. He didn’t know if it was because time was already too far gone by the time he made it there. He didn’t know if it was just because it was a bomb and a bomb killed him once. All he knew was that he could still recall his bones aching and the taste of blood in his mouth. He can remember the smell of his blood, the smell of the musty warehouse, the sound of his mother crying, the joker laughing. He was sitting in front of this bomb, ready to dismantle it, but there was something that just sent everything flooding back to him until his hands were shaking and he couldn’t breathe.

Jason isn’t really sure how he pulled it off, but he did. His hands were shaking so hard he’s not sure how he got his tools on the right wires, but he did. He did it, even though the timer on the bomb felt like a timer counting down his last heaving breaths because he was so sure he wasn’t okay enough to do it. He’d call it a miracle if he believed in any higher power.

Even though he’d accomplished the goal and the victims could get out alive and he’d done his job, he couldn’t seem to calm down. He could still barely breathe, couldn’t hear anything over the blood roaring in his ears, could barely see with his vision fading out. He did what he needed to do and he still couldn’t calm the fuck down.

He slumped from his crouching position to flat on his ass on the cold concrete, unable to keep steady. He knew he should be trying to even out his breathing but even thinking about it feels like a herculean effort, given he was more focused on the fact that he might pass the fuck out. And then he felt pressure at the back of his neck, shoving his head down. Jason almost accepted this as another potential death sentence because he was in no shape to fight anybody off right now, but a moment later he realized whoever was shoving his head down wasn’t trying to hurt him.

The hand stayed on him while the rest of the body it belonged to moved around to crouch in front of him. Jason noticed the black boots, and while they could have been anyone’s black boots, or at least anyone of the Bats’ boots, Jason realized they were Tim’s. Jason belatedly remembered Tim was on comms with him for the mission, somewhat working together, but he didn’t know at which point Tim actually showed up. He had a sickening realization that rocketed his panic up even further, as if it were even fucking possible, that had he actually not been fast enough this time like he was sure he wouldn’t be, Tim would have been caught up in the wreckage. Both of their lives could have ended tonight.

It took a moment for Jason to realize Tim is trying to talk to him. Jason couldn’t really make out the sound of Tim’s voice, not with the sounds of his own body still taking over. There was the sound blood rushing in his ears, the sound of his ragged breath being pulled in and out of his lungs, and ringing in his ears. He felt Tim’s hands pulling off the hood, warmth radiating through soft leather being pressed to either side of his face and forcing his head up so he’s looking Tim in the face. Because Tim was here right there front of him. And Jason was there. And Jason did what he had to and they didn’t die. The touch did ground him marginally, but it wasn’t quite enough to calm him yet. He could at least hear what Tim is saying.

“Hey, Jay, c’mon. You’re alright, we’re alright, the victims are okay. You did it, man.” But Jason already knew this, so it didn’t really help. It did loosen his chest a little to hear Tim say it, though.

“Hey, Jason, c’mon, you gotta breathe.” Yet another thing that Jason already knew.

Tim’s hand slid from his face down to Jason’s hand. He grabbed it and placed it on his own chest. He could feel Tim’s heart. It was a little fast, probably due to adrenaline, but it was nice and strong and steady and distracted Jason from his own for a moment. 

“Okay, now breathe with me. You can do it. You can defuse bombs, you can kick ass, and you can breathe. We can do it.”

Jason felt Tim’s chest rise and expand slowly, and after a few moments, he attempted to do the same. He tried, and ultimately found himself successful in pulling in a deep slow breath, holding it for a moment then releasing it. It took a monumental effort to tell himself to breathe in and out, to match Tim’s pace, and quite frankly, it left him exhausted. 

“Good, good Jay, you’re alright,” Tim said, a small smile on his lips, his other hand still on Jason’s face and thumb stroking his cheek softly. Jason could breathe a little better, but he was still trembling and honestly he was just _tired_  and he wanted to go _home_. Luckily, Tim could tell and pulled Jason up and pulled his arm around shoulder to made their way to Jason’s bike. Usually, Jason would _kill_  Tim for driving the bike, but he didn’t think he was together enough to do it and they sure as hell weren’t gonna walk all the way through Gotham like that.

The ride to his apartment was a blur and before he knew it he was collapsing onto the couch, just wanting to curl up and pass out.

“Hey, hey,” Tim said, shoving him a little on the shoulder. “Do you want to shower first? Nice hot water and all that?” Jason considered for a moment, but then decided the comfort of the warm water wasn’t worth the effort of getting up and that he’d settle for a blanket instead. He shook his head.

“Okay,” Tim said gently. “How about moving to the bed? Nice, big, comfy mattress?” Again, Jason weighed his options and decided he was just fine right there on his broken in couch. 

“Okay,” Tim said again. “That’s fine. But we’re taking your gear off.”

Tim did most of the work. He pulled off the boots, sat Jason up, pulled off his armor and vest, got him down to his underwear. Jason shivered a bit when Tim went into the bedroom to get a pillow and a blanket, which he placed accordingly and laid Jason back down on the couch. The blanket helped his lingering shakiness a little, and so did the smell of his apartment, and the feel of his pillow under his cheek, and the sound of Tim moving around. It was almost enough to lull him to sleep until he felt a solid heavy weight settle down on top of him. 

He cracked an eye open enough to so see Tim, changed out of his suit and into sweats, with his chin settled on his forearms, smiling gently while looking into Jason’s eyes. Jason _would_  have rolled his eyes at Tim for the look he was giving him, God, the kid was such a sap, but then Tim scooted himself uncomfortably up Jason’s torso until their foreheads were pressed together. Then Tim’s lips were softly pressing on his own, a small chaste kiss, just to let Jason know Tim was there for him and cared for him and hoped he was alright.

“You okay?” Tim asked softly, head still resting on Jason’s.

Jason wasn’t really sure at that moment, but he knew he would be. “I’d be a lot better if you get your heavy ass off of my chest,” he joked, though his voice was sounding a little hoarse and tired. Tim still laughed lightly at it and squished himself down between Jason and the back of the couch, adjusting the blanket so it was covering both of them.

“You’re gonna end up shoving me off,” Jason groused.

Tim yawned. “Too bad. Shoulda picked the bed instead.”

Jason didn’t say anything, but squirmed an arm under Tim, who thankfully lifted his body a bit to make it easier, and then Jason pulled him close. Tim’s head laid comfortably on his shoulder, he ran his hand lightly on Jason’s chest until eventually the movement petered off and Tim was lightly snoring.

Jason listened to that sound for a moment. It was a close call tonight. It wouldn’t be the last one they had, and it wouldn’t be the last bomb or the last warehouse. But he was going to be okay. And finally he let himself sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Another request from a lovely friend! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I've never had a panic attack, but a friend of mine who does have them helped me with a few things. But if anything seems grossly inaccurate, please let me know and I can edit. General feedback is also always appreciated! Also I could not think of a decent title, so like, if anyone has any suggestions...
> 
> come find me on tumblr (@fakegenjimain) or twitter (@marmorasblade)


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